I dreamt you were an older woman.
Just about to leave for work.
& I missed you
again as then as now as always.
I didn’t wake up in despair.
I was quiet. It is something
you learn eventually. To stay put
like a drain,
to let things flow through you.
How to live with all the blues
which will always renew,
despite overuse.
Anything can be gentle. If you
pray enough.
I don’t have a word for that feeling
soft & full
with devotion to you. Imagine a
penitent crawling to heaven,
ascending Jacob’s ladder
on their knees; bruised & swollen
from the pilgrimage.
In dreams, the dust of the street,
keeps the scent
of your footprints.
I track them & like an animal
follow you
into the mountains. Hoping you’d
appear to me. As God did to Moses.
Bright & beautiful
as a pasture on fire, unconsumed by the flame.
Christ Keivom (he/him), is currently pursuing his master's in English Literature from Delhi University. His work has previously appeared in Novus Literary Arts Journal, Mulberry Literary, Monograph Mag, Write now lit, The Chakkar, Farside Review, Spotlong Review, Agapanthus Collective, Native Skin, and Blue Marble Review to name a few.
Editorial Art by Dilara Sümbül
